


Just a Man...

by alpineshoodratt



Series: A Demon & An Angel [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandonment, Attempted Murder, Break Up, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, College, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, M/M, Murder, Past Child Abuse, Post-Break Up, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Revenge, Scars, Tattoos, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:58:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpineshoodratt/pseuds/alpineshoodratt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That summer, he wore short sleeves, tank tops and occasionally went shirtless.  He felt….free?  Adam turned two; social services unable to locate his biological father, the Singer’s adoption went through.  They celebrated their oldest graduating and their youngest becoming a Singer with a huge barbeque.  Invited everyone they knew, Sherriff Mills, Lisa, Chuck, and barrage of people Dean didn’t know, and Jimmy.  Castiel didn’t come with him. Jimmy said he was trying college again, still hadn’t given up his dream to become a teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel was home, less than a mile away and Dean couldn’t see him. It was torture. 13 year old Sam asked him why he continued to wear both silver bands on his right ring finger. 

“I’ll take them off when I don’t love him anymore, Sammy.” 

He took the drawing from his wall, went to see a tattoo artist named Lucifer, of all things. They started with the outline, coming back three more times for all the coloring in. When it was finished, his scars were inked in Enochian symbols, twisting through the vines wrapping around his arms. Ellen and Bobby acted disapprovingly but seemed to admire it anyway. 

Dean’s first boyfriend tried to kill him. His second one ripped out his heart and showed it to him. He had zero interest in dating. Instead, he concentrated on his school work, his family and his Baby. 

That summer, he wore short sleeves, tank tops and occasionally went shirtless. He felt….free? Adam turned two; social services unable to locate his biological father, the Singer’s adoption went through. They celebrated their oldest graduating and their youngest becoming a Singer with a huge barbeque. Invited everyone they knew, Sherriff Mills, Lisa, Chuck, and barrage of people Dean didn’t know, and Jimmy. Castiel didn’t come with him. Jimmy said he was trying college again, still hadn’t given up his dream to become a teacher. 

September rotated around again, Jo and Sam both beginning high school. Sam taking advanced classes, the kid was a brainiac. Dean took three courses at community college, working at a pizza joint in the evenings. He wouldn’t deliver though; no way was he putting an ugly lighted sign on his Baby.

Dean was awful good at pretending. Pretending the squirrel card from Crowley didn’t come this year, throwing it away before Ellen or Bobby could worry about it. Pretended not to hear Alastair, Ruby or Meg when they came in to the restaurant. Almost three years since the attack, you would think they would get a life of their own. Pretended the rings on his finger were stuck, pretended he didn’t love Castiel anymore. 

 

Life continued.

 

Over the next three years, Dean went to school, worked, spent time with his family and earned his social work degree. He was promptly hired by the county, both his former caseworker and Adam’s were delighted. A foster child working hard to help other foster children was a success in anyone’s book. He took stacks of files home to his tiny apartment every night.

He was bright eyed and idealistic, young and determined to keep as many children safe as he could. Sammy and Jo were seniors in high school; Sam had received a scholarship to Stanford University. Dean had never been prouder of anyone in his life. For two homeless kids of a strung out junkie, they did pretty damn good for themselves. Credit going to two saints named Ellen and Bobby.

On Dean’s 22nd birthday, a group of co-workers insisted on taking him out for a drink. They teased him about never going out, never dating, married to his work and his family. As far as Dean was concerned, nothing else was important.

Sitting around the table with a second round of shots ordered, Dean excused himself to the restroom. He wasn’t a big drinker; the smell of alcohol on someone’s breath gave him the shivers. Exiting the bathroom, he strolled down the small corridor that led back to the bar, an unmistakable voice drifted from behind him. 

“Hello squirrel.” 

Dean stood there, face forward, refusing to turn around and acknowledge his nightmares had come true.

“No hello for me, Dean?”

Staring at the Budweiser sign in front of him, he answered over his shoulder, 

“What are you doing here, Crowley?”

The voice sounded closer now, “My lawyer has informed me the statute of limitations on my charge as finally run out. I’ve come home to see my parents.” 

“No. I mean what are you doing here? In this bar?”

“Well, I’ve come to see you, of course.”

“I’m not 15 anymore, asshole. Leave me alone.”

He walked briskly, never looking behind him. Dean gave the excuse of being sick to his stomach, a light weight drinker, to his friends and headed home, calling Chuck along the way. 

“Dean! How are you, buddy? I haven’t heard from you in a few years now.” 

“Yeah, sorry Chucky, should have kept in touch. I’m freaking out here a little bit, man. Just need a few minutes.” 

“Yeah, yeah sure, whatever you need. What happened?” 

“Crowley’s back.” 

“Back as in flashbacks and nightmares?” 

“No, man. Back as in he just talked to me at the bar.” 

“Did you call the police?” 

“Statute of limitations has run out, there’s nothing new to charge him with.”

“What about harassment? Renewing your restraining order?” 

“Yeah, I’ll call Jody in the morning. I’m…..I’m just all paranoid now, Chucky.” 

“Well, that’s a normal reaction. I wasn’t there for the assault and I’m a bit paranoid myself.” 

Dean chuckled, “You always know what to say to make me feel better. Keep reminding me that you’re more of a mess than I am.” 

“Just doing my job, Dean. You call me again if you need to. 3o’clock in the morning, seriously, anytime.” 

“Thank you, man. Really.” 

 

As predicted, Dean spent the next month on edge, looking over his shoulder all day long. Picking up Adam from kindergarten as he did every Friday afternoon, a realization hit him. If Crowley followed him from work to the bar, he could’ve been following him everywhere. Even here.

He took a moment to ask the principal to keep an eye out, just to be safe. Adam bounced in to the Impala, strapping in, “What are we gonna do tonight Deannie?” 

“What do you think about….go carts?”

“YES!” 

They drove small cars around the same figure 8 track for an hour, had pizza, finishing up at Dean’s apartment with pie and a movie. Dean tucked his little man into his big bed, crashing on the couch. This was his idea of heaven, couldn’t wait to have a kid of his own. Adopting as a single man is tricky, but not impossible. He wasn’t going to hold out for an infant, just a child that needed a home. 

 

Dean worked for the county, so not all of his cases were in his home town. He was called out to a high school he wasn’t familiar with on a Monday morning. A 15 year old girl with a black eye. Dean checked in with the front office and waited for the guidance counselor to collect him. The man approached hastily, white button up dress shirt, blue tie, loose and crooked, a mop full of messy black hair and a very familiar tan trench coat.

“Hello Dean” 

“Hi Cas. You have a little girl I need to speak to?” every effort going towards acting business like.

“Yes, well, she is not exactly a little girl. I am afraid she had a very impressive knowledge of profane language.” 

Dean chuckled, “Sounds like my kind of kid, lead the way.”

Fighting memories and old feelings, he followed Castiel to an office marked 

“Mr. Novak Guidance Counselor” 

Slumped in a chair across from a large desk was a blonde girl with too much makeup and angry blue eyes.

“Dean, this is Claire. Claire, this is Mr. Winchester from child services.” 

“I told you, I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’m fine.”

“Hey, Ca…..Mr. Novak. Think you could leave us alone for a bit?”

“Absolutely,” as if he were relieved to get away from the girl. “Use the intercom if you need me.” 

Castiel left hurriedly, closing the office door behind him. Dean took a seat at Cas’s desk, making a mental note of the counselor’s OCD organization. Dismissing the thought of rearranging it, just to be an ass, he turned his attention to Claire. 

“You can call me Dean, not very fond of ‘mister’, makes me feel old.” 

“Yeah, you look pretty young, what are you? My age?”

“22, you want to tell me about that shiner you have?”

“No” 

“Ok..... have you ever seen ‘Silence of the Lambs’?” 

“What? I put the lotion on my skin or I get the hose again?”

Dean laughed out loud at that response. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of ‘quip pro quo’. I ask a question, you answer honestly. You ask a question, I answer honestly.”

“Ok, this could be interesting. I go first.”

“Shoot”

“They left a 22 year old man alone in a room with a 15 year old girl? How does that happen?” 

“Well, either they know I am very professional and responsible. Or, they know I’m gay.” 

“I think it’s the gay thing”

“I think you’re right.  
Now, what happened to your eye?”

“My mom’s boyfriend came on to me again, I pushed him and he popped me.   
Do you have a partner or husband or whatever?”

“No, I haven’t dated in a very long time.   
Where is your mother, Claire?”

“I’m not sure. She said Vegas but that was like, a month ago.   
Why don’t you date?”

“I have had some very negative experiences with men.  
Have you been living alone with this man for a month?” 

“Yeah, my mom left her government card; she gets child support so I can buy clothes and food or whatever. I can’t get the dick to move out though.  
What negative experiences?” 

Choosing to go with the one that hurt the least, “I was 15 and my boyfriend stabbed me 27 times.” 

“Bullshit”

Dean stood, shook his brown leather jacket off his shoulders and folded up the arms of his Henley.

“Dude. That is some serious ink!”

Dean smirked, presenting his right arm closer so she could make out the scars underneath.

“Wow…..” 

“Yeah, wow.   
You said your mom got child support, where’s your dad?”

“Living ‘happily ever after’ with his new family. I’ve called him already; he said he sends money, which should be enough”

“Ouch”

“Right.   
So this dude that tried to kill you, he’s in prison for life or something?”

“No, actually. He spoke to me in a bar last month.   
Claire, I’m going to give you a couple choices. I think I know what’s best for you but I also believe you’re old enough to have your opinion considered.”

“Is that a question?”

“No, this part is though.   
Option number one: there is a ‘Wayward Child’ home a half hour from here. They have a good set up, dorm-like rooms, in house schooling, medical and dental care. All the kids there have parents that aren’t very good at being parents.”

“Sounds like JDC, dude. What’s my other choice?” 

“There is a family one town over, the Singers. They’re wonderful people. Won’t put up with a lot of drama, but they have a near perfect track record with their foster children.”

“Living with strangers and weird rules. What’s so great about their ‘track record’?” 

“Well, they adopted a foster child after he was burned and his mother died of a drug overdose, he’s 5 now. They have a daughter of their own, graduating this year and headed to college to study business management. Another foster child, same age as their daughter, full ride scholarship to Stanford U in California, prelaw. Their oldest foster child graduated high school, earned a degree in social work and tries to find safe homes for abused and neglected kids.”

“You were a foster kid, huh? All scarred up, tattooed and trying to do right by your parents, huh?”

“No one is more important to me than the list of people I just mentioned. Besides my job, they are my entire life. Offering to place you with them, with my family, isn’t something I do with everyone, Claire.”

The sarcastic, defensive tone left her voice, “Why would you do that for me, then?” 

Dean grinned, “I see potential. I see someone who reminds me an awful lot of myself.”

“Ok. I think I would like to meet this perfect family of yours.” 

 

Dean made a couple of phone calls, had officers assist Claire in picking up her belongings. Her mom’s boyfriend, nowhere to be found. He was completing paperwork to withdraw Claire from her current high school as his coworker drove her to her new home.

Castiel approached him as him as he filled in the blanks on a form. Dean still wrote slower than the average person, luckily most of his office work was computerized.

“You found a place for Claire very quickly.” The guidance counselor observed.

“Yeah, Bobby and Ellen were pretty excited; they haven’t had a new foster kid in years.”

“You placed her with your parents?”

“She needs a break, Cas. Just a chance to do better, she’ll do well, I know it.”

Castiel stood quietly for a moment, watching Dean carefully print the required information. That’s when he saw his right hand. The ring finger on his right hand.

Two sterling silver bands, the top one reading ‘Dean’ stacked directly above ‘Castiel’.

Dean hadn’t caught the man’s stare, turning to hand him the pen and paperwork.

“It was good to see you, Castiel. I’m happy you’re doing well.” He offered a sincere smile before walking out of the office.

 

Cas’s eyes trailing him down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dean Winchester”   
> “Dean. It’s Castiel Novak.”   
> “Don’t think the last name was needed, Cas. Not too many Castiels around.”   
> “No. I suppose there is not.”   
> “You have another student you’re worried about or is this regarding Claire?”   
> “No. Nothing like that. I would like to speak to you. Perhaps we can meet for coffee tomorrow?”   
> “Cas, you hate coffee.”   
> “That is true but you have always displayed a fondness for it. It really is not about the beverages.”

Dean gave his best effort to ignore the recall of feelings he had talking to Cas. It was so…..easy. There was no real awkwardness; he didn’t feel nearly as bitter as he thought he would. Castiel was doing well, helping kids. 

After work, he popped in on his folks, just to see how Claire was doing. Adam attacked his knees the minute he entered, “Hey, little man!”

“We got a new Sissy, Deannie!”

“Awesome, do you like her?”

“Yes. She calls me ‘squirt’.” 

Dean chuckled, wandering in to the living room where the entire family sat. Oh, great, he remembered this, a ‘family meeting’. 

“Dean, come on in son.” Bobby waved.

“Already in, Pops. How are we all getting along?” 

“Claire here is a female version of you, I think.”

“Completely charming and irresistibly handsome?” 

Sammy scoffed, “No, jerk. Stubborn and self-depreciating.”

“Hello! Sitting right here, I can totally hear you.” Claire interrupted. 

“Well, if she’s anything like me, she’ll appreciate all you do for her.” Dean answered with a kiss to Ellen’s cheek. “This little blonde has given me a bit of paperwork to do, I just wanted to check in, make sure Adam approved of his new sissy” he winked at his baby brother who stuck his thumb up. 

Adam approved.

 

Sitting at his kitchen table, working through Claire’s paperwork as well as several other cases, Dean’s phone rang. It was a number he didn’t recognize so he answered formally,   
“Dean Winchester” 

“Dean. It’s Castiel Novak.”

“Don’t think the last name was needed, Cas. Not too many Castiels around.” 

“No. I suppose there is not.” 

“You have another student you’re worried about or is this regarding Claire?” 

“No. Nothing like that. I would like to speak to you. Perhaps we can meet for coffee tomorrow?” 

“Cas, you hate coffee.” 

“That is true but you have always displayed a fondness for it. It really is not about the beverages.” 

“Gotcha. ‘Bean There’ on Pine Street?” 

“That would be convenient. My lunch hour is 2pm-3pm.” 

“Ok, I’ll be there around 2pm.” 

“Thank you, Dean.” 

A ‘click’ before Dean could say ‘you’re welcome’.

Closing his eyes, inhaling deeply before releasing a loud sigh.

What the hell was he doing? 

 

1pm, Dean sat in a booth by the window of the coffee house, sipping his latte and making phone calls regarding work. He sensed someone next to him, assuming it was the waiter offering a refill; he looked up to find Crowley.

Dean had purposely avoided actually seeing the man at the bar, refused to turn around at the time. Catching his eyes now, his taller, stockier build, made Dean feel like a tiny 15 year old kid again. Looking back to the papers in front of him,

“What do you want?” 

Crowley slid in to the seat across from him.   
“To see you, of course.” 

“You’ve seen me.” Dean lay his phone face up on the table, pulled up the keypad, dialed 911 and left his finger hovering over the ‘call’ option. Looking up at the older man. “I need to do this?” 

“Don’t be so dramatic, little squirrel. I haven’t come to harm you.” 

“Call me squirrel again and I’ll stab you 27 times with this damn spoon.” Picking up the only utensil on the table to make a point.

Crowley’s smirk vanished, expression turning serious. Dean’s finger still floating above his phone. 

“Was it truly 27 times?” 

That was it. 

Dean was done. 

Dropping his finger down to the screen, a female voice blared through the speaker,   
‘911 what is the nature of your emergency?’

Crowley stood, same serious, sad look on his face. “I’ll fix this, Dean.” As he left the restaurant. 

“I apologize, ma’am. My situation has resolved itself. Thank you.” 

 

He didn’t get one drop of work done over the next hour, waiting for Castiel. If he hadn’t made plans, he would’ve left the minute Crowley did.

This was insane. He was 22 damn years old. 

Castiel entered, looking exactly like the day before, Dean wondered if the man had changed clothes. Sitting in the same spot Crowley had recently vacated, 

“Hello Dean” 

“Hey Cas” waving the waiter over. 

“I would like a Chai Tea, please. Another coffee for my friend as well. Thank you.” 

The waiter seemed to appreciate Castiel’s looks, causing Dean to grin at the man’s obliviousness.

“So, Castiel. What did you want to talk to me about?” 

Cas looked uncomfortable, mindlessly stacking creamer packets on top of one another.

“I think I would like to talk to you about a lot of things.” 

Dean shook his head; he forgot how much he missed Castiel’s odd way of speaking. 

“Ok, let’s narrow it down. What would you like to say first?”

“I would like to apologize.” 

“For…..?”

“The way I ended our relationship.” 

“Cas, that was like 4 years ago.” 

“Yes, but it is still regrettable.” 

“Ok, apology accepted.” He nodded, hoping the pain wasn’t showing up on his face. 

“I do not believe it is that easy. You did the right thing and were punished for it. I cannot fully express my regret.” 

“Why didn’t you get a hold of me then? Come to the house or pick up the phone? I waited for that call an awful long time, Cas.” 

“I had hoped you had moved on. I did not feel worthy of you.”

“Well, yeah. I am pretty awesome.” 

“Do not deflect, Dean. Humor is your defense mechanism.” 

“What should I say then? You broke my heart? Yeah, you did. Shattered it. But that was years ago, high school, teenage crap. I’m over it, I’m sure you’re over it, why rehash?” 

“Because I am not ‘over it’.” 

Dean stared at the man, “Castiel, you can’t just bring all this up because you saw me in passing. Suddenly remembered I existed. I’ve been single for a long time now, happily so. Running in to you was….nice, but I wasn’t looking forward to a walk down memory lane.” 

“The rings” 

“What?” 

“You still wear the rings.” 

Dean looked down at his finger as if he had forgotten all about them. He almost had. Wearing them for so long, they had become a part of him. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, 

“Yeah, I guess I do.” 

“So I am not sure you are ‘over it’ either.” 

“Not fair Cas. Seeing you after all this time, Crowley popping up, I’m feeling a bit…..off kilter….having trouble getting my footing here.” 

“Fergus? He has returned to the country?” expression changing from regret to rage.

“He’s here, in town. Sat exactly where you’re sitting about an hour or so ago.” 

“You called the authorities, correct?” 

“He left before I needed to.”

“Dean…..”

“This wasn’t the first time he’s tracked me down, it won’t be the last either. I don’t know what exactly he wants, but I’ll handle it. I’m not a kid this time.” 

“No, of course you are not.” Castiel sighed, “Would you agree to have dinner with me?” 

“You really wanna do this?”

“Yes, Dean”

“Ok, better include pie.”

 

Claire adjusted to life with the Singers pretty quickly. One of Dean’s co-workers had to take over her case, personal interest on Dean’s part. She and Jo, although exact opposites, became fast friends. Claire helped around the house, played with Adam and harassed Sam almost as good as Dean did. 

 

He and Cas had set a date for Saturday, since Friday nights were ‘Adam nights’. Scooping his little guy up from school, the kindergartener shot out of the doors, clinging to something brown and fuzzy in his hand. 

“Whatcha got there little man?” 

“Squirrel!” Lifting up the stuffed animal to show Dean proudly.

Dean snatched the toy away, looking around hastily. Crowley was here. 

“Hey! Give him back!” 

Dean crouched down to Adam’s level, looking him straight in the eyes,

“Adam. You need to tell me where you got this.” 

The little boy stopped reaching for the animal when Dean’s voice sounded serious. 

“There was a man, he talked funny and said this was a present for me” 

“Where, Adam? Where did you see the man?” 

“At recess, by the fence.” 

“I need you to listen to me, very closely, ok?” 

Wide-eyed Adam nodded. 

“The man was a very bad man. I’m going to take this toy but I promise to buy you a new one. Any other animal you want. I need to take you back to Momma, just for a little while, I’ll come back and pick you up after dinner and we’ll get hot fudge sundaes. Ok?” 

“Yes, Deannie. I’m sorry.” 

“No, baby boy. I’m sorry. I should’ve taken care of this already.” 

The kid was freaked out enough, Dean didn’t want to drag him back in to the school, so he called the principal on the way to his parent’s house. He censored himself for the sake of 5 year old ears, but let the lady know exactly what he thought about her job performance and security at the school.

Dean walked Adam to the door, Ellen greeting them in surprise. He simply held up the stuffed animal, her face went white. 

“Oh God, Dean” she whispered, eyes wide.

“I’m taking care of it, Momma. I’ll be back for Adam after dinner, ok?”

“Dean, what are you going to do?” 

He smiled, shook his head as he tossed the toy in to the back seat and peeled out of the driveway. 

 

Dean knocked on the heavy wooden door of the grand house. It took a few tries before an older red-headed woman answered, holding on to the doorframe to keep from swaying.

“Hello, Rowena”

“Dean! My goodness, look at you. All grown up and still so very yummy. I’m glad you and Fergie are talking again.” 

“Yeah, it’s great. Is ‘Fergie’ home by chance? I need to give him something,” he said shaking the stuffed squirrel in his grip.

“Of course, come on in,” opening the door wider to allow Dean to pass. “He’s in his father’s study. Fergie has pretty much taken over all the real estate deals since my husband’s stroke. He’s such a good son.” 

Rowena knocked on the study door, opening it before receiving an answer to find Crowley sitting at his father’s desk typing away on a laptop. “Fergie, look who has come to visit. I’ll just leave you two alone. Let me know if you need anything.” 

Dean watched as she stumbled down the hall, when he was sure she was out of earshot, he tossed the stuffed animal at Crowley. 

“Lose something?” 

“You can come in, Dean. Shut the door so we can speak privately.” 

“Nah, I’m ok here” crossing his arms and propping himself up against the doorway.

“I told you, I’m not going to harm you. You needn’t be afraid of me.” 

“Crowley. You…..you can’t mess with my family. My baby brother? What do you want? You want to finish what you started? You need me dead?”

Crowley had the nerve to look as if his feelings were hurt.

“No, Dean. Of course not. I….I was in a…..confused state of mind then. It was never my intention to hurt you.” 

Dean stared at the man for what seemed to be forever before asking again,

“What- the- fuck- do- you- want?” 

“I thought it was obvious, I want you.” 

Dean laughed nervously at that, “Is there medication for what you have and do you think you could double the dose? You’re insane. I want you leave my family alone. I NEED you to leave my family alone.” 

Crowley stood, walking around the desk towards Dean. The younger man took two steps backwards before he realized he was moving at all. 

“I couldn’t help but notice, sweet Dean, that in that heartfelt plea of yours, you didn’t ask me to leave you alone. You only mentioned your family. Why is that?” 

Dean responded quietly, “My family didn’t bring you in to my life, I did. If you need to torture me, make me remember every single cut on my body, fine. I’ll deal with it. But not Adam, Crowley. Not a five year old who doesn’t even know evil like you exists in the world.” 

Crowley had walked close enough for Dean to have backed up against the wall in the hallway. Dumb ass, he should have brought a weapon or something. 

“Am I evil, Dean?” 

“Absolutely” 

Crowley smiled, “I give you my word. I shall leave your little family, your ‘baby brother’ alone. I swear I will not approach any of them. But I need something from you as well.”

“You want me to sell my soul.” 

“Nothing as diabolical as all that. I simply want you to talk to me.” 

“What?” 

“Talk to me. Have a conversation.” 

“Are you really this insane or are you playing crazy for defense purposes?” 

“I believe I lost my sanity sometime around my high school graduation.” 

All the blood drained from Dean’s face, he stood there, in Crowley’s house. On the fancy burgundy carpet, portraits of Crowley’s ancestors lining the hallway, staring at the man. The implications of that particular time in Crowley and Dean’s relationship were perfectly clear.

The younger man turned, walking briskly down the corridor towards the exit, listening to Crowley’s breathing directly behind him.

“Dean. Dean! Do we have a deal?”

Dean stopped at the front door, barely able to choke out the words, “Yeah, Crowley. Whatever. Just stay the hell away from the people I love.” 

He swung the door open, trotting down the stairs to his Baby when Crowley called after him, 

“Does that include our good friend, Castiel?” 

Dean ignored him; spinning tires on their perfect cement drive way. 

 

Dean picked Adam up as promised, kissing Ellen on her cheek, “Don’t worry, Momma, I took care of it.” 

“Dean….” 

“It’s all right.” 

He took his little man for ice cream, shopping for a new stuffed animal, the biggest, floppiest tiger they could find. He tucked Adam in his big bed, clinging to his new friend.   
Sitting at the kitchen table around midnight, tracing fingertips over the scars on his forearm, thoughts running through his mind. 

He could not allow this man to intimidate and manipulate him.   
He could not allow this man to threaten or harm the people he loved.   
He could not allow this man to blackmail him.

No. 

As every possible solution was reviewed and dismissed he could come to only one conclusion. 

 

Crowley had to die.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve received copies of your restraining orders. I must say, I was a bit surprised at the locations I am prohibited from.”   
> “Can we talk about this later? I was on my way out…”  
> “Of course, dear Dean. Just one quick question and I’ll let you on your way.”   
> Pinching the bridge of his nose, it’s too early for this.   
> “What?”   
> “No mention of your address on these documents, shall I take that as an invitation?”   
> “Take it however you want, I gotta go.”

Castiel picked Dean up promptly at 6pm Saturday night for dinner. They drove to a steak house on the outskirts of town. After being shown their seat and studying the menu, Dean shrugged off his jacket and pulled up the sleeves of his shirt without much thought.

Once they both had ordered, Cas tipped his head, squinting a bit,  
“That is our design. The one we created in high school.” 

Following the man’s gaze to the tattoo on his arms.   
“Yeah, that Lucifer guy did a great job. You have to get really close to see the scar tissue.” 

“Does it help?” 

“What? The ink? Yeah, I still get stared at but for a different reason now.”

“How is your family?”

Dean rattled off the updates, asked about Jimmy, getting all of the polite conversation out of the way.

“Have you seen Fergus again?”

Dean wiggled in his seat, uncomfortable.   
“He came by Adam’s school, scared me pretty bad, so I went to his house to confront him.”

“Dean! You voluntarily went to the man’s house?” 

“You sound just like Jody when I told her. I warned him off of my family.” 

“But not off of you?”

“What? Have you and Sherriff Mills been sharing notes? That’s exactly what she said.” 

“Then you should listen to at least one of us.” 

“I’m listening to both of you. I talked to him; he’s going to chill out. Jody filed a restraining order protecting Adam’s school, my parent’s home and my place of employment.”

“But not your home. Dean, what exactly do you think you are doing?”

“I’m taking care of it Cas. Let’s talk about something else.” 

 

They spoke for hours, long after their dinner was finished and desert had been picked at. Catching up on four years, Cas’s addiction, Dean’s therapy, both of their college studies and careers.

It was familiar and comfortable and scared the shit out of Dean. He couldn’t just fall back in to a relationship that easy. And it would be so very easy…..

Castiel walked him to his door; Dean made a crack about Cas being a gentleman,  
“I am not being polite, Dean. I am concerned about you. You need to listen to me this time.”

“I am listening. I understand and agree with everything you’re saying. I’m a big boy now; I know exactly who I am and what I want. I’ve outgrown my need for a guardian angel.”

“I suppose I deserve that. I enjoyed myself tonight. I would like to see you again.” 

“Yeah, me too. Call me mid-week? We’ll work it out.” 

Cas nodded, offering his hand.   
Dean chuckled, a handshake after a date.   
That’s what good boys do.

 

Sunday morning, Dean was getting ready to go over to the house, always spent Sundays with his family. His cell rang, ‘BLOCKED CALLER’ flashed across the screen.

“Dean Winchester” 

“Good morning, squirrel.” 

“Crowley.” 

“I’ve received copies of your restraining orders. I must say, I was a bit surprised at the locations I am prohibited from.” 

“Can we talk about this later? I was on my way out…”

“Of course, dear Dean. Just one quick question and I’ll let you on your way.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, it’s too early for this. 

“What?”

“No mention of your address on these documents, shall I take that as an invitation?” 

“Take it however you want, I gotta go.” 

Dean hung up.

 

The Singers started having a weekly barbeque every Sunday when Dean moved out. Keeping their wayward son close without smothering him. This time, Bobby’s old friend brought his son. Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, Dean flicked him off; Claire giggled, 

“Real mature, case-worker-man” 

Dean winked, headed over to greet Cas. 

They all ate, joked, talked and as the evening wound down, Dean helped Ellen with the dishes as he did every Sunday.

“You and Castiel are getting along well.” 

“Yeah….” 

“Jimmy said you two went out last night?” 

“Just as friends, you know, to catch up.” 

“Be careful, sweetheart.” 

“Of Cas?”

“Of getting your heart broken again.” 

Dean repeated those words in his head a few times,   
“Yes, ma’am” 

“Hold on” gave a high voice from behind them, Claire, “This is your ex-boyfriend? The one that tried to kill you?” 

Dean shook his head, chuckling as he strutted over, handing her a dishtowel and guiding her to the sink to help Ellen, leaning in to her ear to whisper loudly and dramatically, 

“No, Blondie. This is the one that ripped out my heart” 

With a peck on the head, he slipped out, leaving the rest of Claire’s wide eyed questions for Ellen to handle. 

 

It was pretty late when Dean finally arrived back at his place. After a bonfire, s’mores, and a very drunken Jimmy being bullied in to letting Castiel drive home, all Dean wanted was a shower and his bed. 

Instead, he found a stocky, bearded man with a Scottish accent leaning against the wall next to his front door. 

“Aw, C’mon Crowley. It’s late.” 

“I’m aware of the time, squirrel. I still have a promise of conversation.” 

Exhaling loudly, unlocking the door, “Fine, do you have any weapons on you?” 

“Would you like to frisk me?”

“I’d rather die than touch you.”

“I am not armed”

Dean stood aside, letting the man he hated more than anything else in to his home.  
Flicking on the lights and tossing his keys on the table, Dean pointed to a chair by the window, furthest from the door.

“Sit there” 

Crowley smirked but followed direction. Dean hopped up to sit on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. Pulling a blade from the knife block, he lay it on his left side, dialing 911 on his cell phone but not hitting ‘call’ button, he lay that on his right side. 

“Ok, talk” 

“I’ve missed you, squirrel” 

“Oh, for the love of Chuck! Stop with the ‘squirrel’ shit, ok? It’s Dean.” 

“Very well, I’ve missed you dear Dean.” 

“Yeah, trying to kill someone will do that to you. Seriously, man, why are playing with me?” 

Crowley looked offended, “I am not ‘playing with you’. I sincerely regret my actions and want you back with me.” 

“Are you really this insane or are you just trying to piss me off?”

Crowley smiled, “You are so much stronger than I thought you were. Surviving your injuries, regaining the use of your limbs, completing your studies, following through with your career goals. I’m very proud of you.” 

“You’re approval means the world to me,” Dean sneered sarcastically.

“I was, however, very disappointed to hear of your relationship with Castiel Novak. Seems I had a cause for my jealousy after all. But I believe I can forgive you for that, after all I have put you through.” 

Dean stared at the man with his mouth slightly opened, just when he thought Crowley couldn’t possibly be more unbalanced, the man reached new heights.

“I’m going to explain this to you, and I’m going to speak slowly and use small words to insure you understand everything I am saying to you. OK?” 

Continuing to grin, Crowley nodded in what seemed like amusement. 

“You almost killed me. If Castiel hadn’t spotted you at school that day, I would’ve died on that roof top; no one would have ever even discovered my body. You raped me. You hit me. You controlled and terrorized me. I was 15 years old. I was a kid. I was desperate to trust someone. I was desperate for someone to love me. I am not that kid anymore, Crowley. I will not be ‘getting back together’ with you. Ever. You need to tell me what I can do to make you go away.” 

“One date” the man seemed to demand.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“So vulgar, dear Dean. One evening of your time, simple enough. After that, I will disappear from your life forever. I swear.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

“You’ve asked what I wanted, that’s what I want. Remember that first day in the library, the first time I asked you out? Same deal, after our date, you still hate me, I’ll leave you alone.” 

“You can’t manipulate me, Crowley.”

“I have no intention of manipulating you Dean. I will call again later in the week to work out the details of our rendezvous. It’s late and you need your rest, so I’ll bid you ‘good night’ dear Dean.” 

He stood to leave; Dean hopped down from the counter, knife in one hand and cell in the other. Crowley paused by the door, hand on the knob, glancing over his shoulder,   
“I’ve never stopped loving you Dean.” 

Walked out, clicking the door behind him. Dean promptly locked both locks, as if that would protect him. He let the devil in his home; he could’ve attacked him at any time. 

 

Work the next week was tough. Monday, a little girl watched her father kill her mother. Tuesday, grade school called with reports of inappropriate touching between a boy and his stepfather. Wednesday was a little better; Dean was able to find shelter for a homeless mother and her two kids. Cas called that night, after talking and laughing for an hour, they finally set a time and place for their second date, Saturday night.

Thursday, another trip to another high school for another child with evidence of parental beating. Followed by a call from Crowley. 

Awesome. 

“Dean Winchester” 

“Hello Dean” 

“Crowley, can you call me on my cell after work? Don’t call on my work phone, please” 

“Are you embarrassed by my attentions?” 

“Humiliated, actually. I have work to do.” 

“Saturday” 

“What?”

“Saturday, our date” 

“I have plans Saturday, Crowley. And I don’t have time to argue right now.” 

Click – hung up on the man.

 

Friday, a mountain of paperwork from the previous four days and ‘Adam night’. Adam always made him pull out of the darkness from the week, kid made him smile. Today, though, he flopped sadly in the passenger seat, looking at his little red shoes. 

“What’s wrong, buddy?” 

“This boy from 2nd grade said my scars make me look like Frankenstein” 

“Do you think your scars make you look like Frankenstein?”

“No. Momma and Pops say they’re battle scars. Only heroes have them.” 

“So, do you think this 2nd grade guy knows more than Momma or Pops?” 

“Well, no.” 

“What about my scars? I have a lot more than you, do I look like Frankenstein?” 

“No. You look like a hero too.” 

“So….what are we going to do about this kid?” 

“Beat him up?” 

“No,” Dean chuckled, trying not to seem agreeable to the suggestion, “The kid is wrong. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. So, next time, you tell him that. You teach him about bravery and battle scars and how Frankenstein isn’t real. Whatcha think?”

“I’ll try. But if that doesn’t work, you should beat him up.” 

Adam and Dean went to the movies, watched the newest animated film while eating hot dogs, nachos and popcorn. They played ‘Go Fish’ until bedtime, Dean watched him baby brother sleep for a just a bit, sending up a silent prayer that people like that 2nd grader wouldn’t take away Adam’s sweetness of spirit. 

Dean was making up the couch, when a knock echoed from the door. He rushed to answer before the noise could wake up Adam.

Crowley.

Dean pushed against his chest with his hands, joining him in the hallway and shutting the door. 

“What the hell? You said you’d stay away from my family.”

“I am. I’m here to talk to you.” 

“Damn it, you KNOW I keep Adam on Friday nights. You know this because you follow me everywhere and had the nerve to give him a message for me. Just go, Crowley.”

When he turned to open the door, Crowley’s voice dropped to a menacing level behind him, 

“You hung up on me” 

Dean turned, attempting to ignore the change in the man’s tone and pretending it didn’t affect him. 

“You shouldn’t have called me at work. I have my baby brother tonight and I have plans tomorrow. I never agreed to do this date thing and you acting like this will get my address added to that restraining order. Don’t you see? I’m doing you a favor here. Just talking to you is more than you deserve. So stop with the demands and the attempts to intimidate me. Got it?” 

“Drinks, Monday night.”

“What?” 

“Come with me for a drink Monday night.” 

Dean threw his head back and exhaled, “Call me on my cell Monday afternoon.”

He went inside and shut the door without saying another word. 

 

He kept Adam until noon on Saturday. They ate way too many chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and played catch in the park. The kid tore through the door when Dean brought him home. 

“Dean, he’s all keyed up. What did you do?” admonished Ellen

“I don’t know. He’s just a happy kid” Dean smirked 

“You feed him chocolate chips again, didn’t you?” gruff Bobby’s voice this time. 

“Well, they make him happy….” The man snickered before searching out his siblings.

Finding Sam in his room, they talked a bit about some girl named Jessica he was crushing on. Claire and Jo were arguing about cleaning their room. Dean just shook his head, he stayed out of teenage girl disputes.

Hugging Adam ‘bye’, telling Momma and Pops he would see them tomorrow at barbeque, he left. 

 

He insisted on picking Cas up for their date this time, no way was he riding around in Castiel’s eyesore when he had his Baby available. They went bowling, something Castiel had, apparently, never tried before because he was terrible. Dean snickered every single time the man’s ball went in to the gutter.

Migrating from the lanes to the game room, Dean attempted to teach his date how to play pool. Tears of laughter running down his cheeks at Cas’s serious frustration finding out he was holding the stick backwards.

Dean took Castiel home, walked him to the door like the man had done for him the Saturday before. Dean reached to shake his hand and Cas leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek. Dean looked up in surprise. 

“Too soon?”

“No, Castiel.” He leaned in to catch the man’s lips. 

“Do you want to come in?” Cas asked nervously.

“Not yet, Cas. I mean, I want to come in, but I shouldn’t come in. Not yet. I’ve loved you so much for so long, I can’t….I just can’t until I know you’re with me this time. Really with me.” 

Castiel looked confused, “I was really with you, Dean”

 

“No, I had to share you with that poison. I’m not willing to share, Castiel. It’s so easy to love you again, so easy to fall back in to your arms, and so very easy to get hurt again. I couldn’t take it again, Cas.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You remember who your mom was and never get her identity confused with your own. I’ve been exactly where you are, Claire. It takes time and work, but you deserve to be happy. You have something she doesn’t, a family that loves you. A couple pieces of paperwork on my part made you my sister. Family don’t end with blood, sweetheart. Doesn’t start there either.”

Dean returned to his apartment after bidding Castiel a good night. He wanted that man. He wanted everything they were before and more. And that scared him. He never desired to feel as vulnerable or hurt like Cas had made him feel so many years ago. 

Sunday spent with the family, no Jimmy or Cas this week. Claire’s mother requested the girl’s address and her caseworker agreed to allow her to write her daughter but mail it to the DCS office instead. The Singer’s didn’t need a confrontation at their home. Her mom wrote her, but unlike John, she didn’t ask for forgiveness, she laid blame. It was Claire’s fault her father left, Claire’s fault her mother left and Claire’s fault her boyfriend ended up in jail.

Needless to say, this put Claire in a pretty bitter mood for the weekend. All attempts to talk to her were useless; she hid in her room while the others gathered outside. Dean made her a plate, clomping up the stairs and knocking on her door. 

“What!” 

“Can I come in, Blondie?” 

“I don’t care.” 

He found her sitting against the wall on her bed, ear buds in and an attitude on her face. 

“I’m not hungry” 

“That’s ok. I’ll leave it here in case you feel better later” taking a seat on Jo’s bed.

“I’m not going to ‘feel better later’.” 

“That’s too bad. That means the bitch wins.” 

“What?” 

“Your mom, she treated you like crap, dipped out on you and still has the ability to make you feel bad when she’s not even around. She wins.” 

“It’s not about winning, Dean.” 

“No? My dad had us homeless and hungry for 10 years, he’s written me twice, I’ve written him twice. He’s in prison, feeling like shit. I’m here, with a family who loves me and a job that makes a difference. That means I win.” 

“So, how do I ‘win’ exactly?” she asked sadly 

“You write her back, tell her exactly how you feel. You study, you work hard and you become who you want to be. You remember who your mom was and never get her identity confused with your own. I’ve been exactly where you are, Claire. It takes time and work, but you deserve to be happy. You have something she doesn’t, a family that loves you. A couple pieces of paperwork on my part made you my sister. Family don’t end with blood, sweetheart. Doesn’t start there either.” 

“arg, you’re one of those big brothers who’s always right aren’t you? That’s so annoying.” She grinned. 

“Yes, well. Ya gotta take the good with the bad, Blondie. Come hang out and make s’mores with little Adam. Argue with Jo and give Sam a hard time. Give Pops a hug and Momma a kiss on the cheek. See if, after all of that, you aren’t 100% sure you are where you belong.” 

Claire climbed off of her bed, walked over to her big brother with tears in her eyes, “Thank you, Dean.” Giving him the tightest, most sincere hug of her life. 

Dean squeezed her back, “I love you, Blondie” 

 

Monday morning, Dean had zero new cases. Thank goodness. Instead, he hopped in his Baby and made rounds. Surprise visits to foster homes, Wayward Children’s and newly reunited families. Just checking in to make sure everything was ok, noting concerns he would follow up with the next day. 

His cell rang while he sat on Baby’s hood, eating lunch. BLOCKED CALLER again. Damn, this guy wouldn’t stop.

“Hello Crowley.” 

“Expecting my call, dear Dean?” 

“I’m not going for a drink with you. I don’t drink.” 

“Then whatever were you doing in that bar a few months back?” 

“Celebrating my birthday with friends, I had exactly one shot. Not that I need to explain this to you but I had a very traumatic experience involving alcohol consumption.”

“You’re trying to make me feel guilty.” 

“No, psycho, you should feel that way on your own.”

“Well, no drinking. What shall we do instead?” 

Dean thought a moment. This could be it. The opportunity he needed for revenge. Did he have the nerve? 

“We’ll go somewhere private and talk. You can tell me everything you’ve been up to the last 7 years and all the reasons I should take you back. I’ll tell you everything I’ve done during that time and all the reasons I want you to leave me alone. Sound like a good time to you?” 

“Actually it does. It’s exactly what I wanted. I assumed you would reject the idea of us meeting in private. Do you have a location in mind or should I come to your place?”

“No, I don’t want you at my place again. Let’s meet at ‘our spot’.” 

“’Our spot’? Do we have a ‘spot’, sweet Dean?”

“I’m insulted, Crowley. Our first date? Our last date? Have you forgotten?” 

“You honestly want to meet on the rooftop? Are you bloody insane?” 

“I’ve been asking you the same question for months, Crowley. Are you in or are you out?” 

“No, no, I’m in. When?” 

“Tonight?”

“Why the rush?”

“You said you’d leave me alone after one date. I want to get it over with so I can get on with my life.” 

“Very well, what time?” 

“Let’s say 8pm, the stars should be out by then.” 

“I do love watching you by moonlight, dear Dean.” 

“Bye Crowley” 

-CLICK-

Dean prayed for the strength he needed to see this through. 

 

He had finished his rounds, and his paperwork, too nervous to eat dinner, he called Castiel instead. 

“Hello Dean. How was your day?” 

“I had a good one, especially for a Monday. You?” 

“Very good as well. I was not expecting a call from you so soon.” 

“Oh…should I let you go….?

“No, not at all. I am happy to hear from you.” 

“You and Jimmy didn’t crash the barbeque this week.” 

“I am afraid my father had already consumed too many beers by lunchtime.” 

“Oh….you think he might have a drinking problem?” 

“I am unsure but I am concerned. Would you like to get dinner with me one night this week? Wednesday maybe?”

“Actually, I thought we could order pizza and watch a movie over here. Is that all right?” 

“I would like that. While I have you on the phone, I received a call today from Fergus.” 

“What? Why?”

“He wanted to inform me of a date you two had set for this evening. I assumed he lying but failed to uncover his motivation for the phone call.” 

Silence on the line, Dean didn’t want to tell Cas he was seeing Crowley, but didn’t want to lie to him either.

“Dean?” 

“I’m here Cas.”

“Are you truly meeting with him?” 

“Yes” 

“Have you become suicidal since our last date?” 

“No, Castiel. I just…….” 

“No” Cas interrupted, “There is no logical reason for this Dean. Are you….have you….do you think you are still in love with him?”

“For the love of Chuck, Cas! NO! I am not in love with that man. I doubt I ever was. I have my reasons for seeing him, I do this and I won’t have to see him ever again.” 

“You believe that? That he will keep his word and leave you alone? He is a liar and a manipulator. You should know this more than anyone, Dean.” 

“Castiel. You helped me before. I’m not just talking about following us and calling 911. I’m talking about staying with me at the hospital, walking me through therapy, loving me when my dad tried to pop back in to my life. But you wouldn’t let me help you. You wouldn’t let me protect you. When I did, you punished me. You locked me out of your life. You handled your addiction and you dealt with all of that on your own. Now, I will manage Crowley and all the pain that comes with him. No matter what that man tries to do to me now, he will never, ever, be able to hurt me as bad as you did, Castiel.” 

-CLICK- 

Dean hung up on Castiel before the man could hear the tears in his voice. 

 

Dean was on the roof of the abandoned factory by 7:30pm. He wondered briefly why Crowley’s father didn’t rebuild or at least demolish this whole block. He lay down a blanket, lowered himself and stared at the stars in silence. He was able to hear Crowley’s car enter the parking lot, engine shut down and every single clip-clop of the man’s shoes on each step. 

His heart was racing in his chest, face felt hot and for a moment, he considered pushing past the man and bolting. With a deep breath, he told himself to man-up. Just do this tonight, Dean could make sure his family was safe from this demon.

“I wasn’t sure you would be here.” Crowley said from the doorway 

Dean leaned up on his elbows, “Why would I stand you up? You have my phone number and my address. You’d just come find me, right?” 

“You’re aware how I well I take rejection, aren’t you?” 

“This is why I’m here. One date. You leave me alone. It’s not rejection, it’s a deal. Like selling my soul for the peace I deserve.” 

Crowley lowered himself on the blanket next to Dean, their hips touching. As much as Dean wanted to pull away in disgust, he swallowed the bile in his throat, keeping his gaze on the sky.

“I made you happy, once upon a time.” Crowley insisted.

“I thought so too. Until I realized I was afraid of you.” 

“When was that, exactly? When did I begin to frighten you?” he asked softly, as if Dean’s declaration had honestly hurt his feelings.

“I’m not sure when it began, but I realized it the night I asked about Samandriel in your yearbook” 

“I didn’t handle that very well. It was a sensitive subject.” 

“Yeah…how was I supposed to know you murdered someone?”

“Dean, now you’re just being crass. Are you trying to pick a fight, end this date before it has begun?” 

“Nope, just stating facts Crowley. I did everything you wanted me to, didn’t I? Changed who I was for you. I never could understand why you would hurt me anyway.” 

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” Crowley spoke softly, laying all the way back on the blanket to stare at the sky. “I…I think I was afraid of losing you. That I could make you stay with me.” 

Dean nervously lay back next to him. Telling himself to keep going, finish this.

“That night, Crowley” he whispered, choking on the memory, “The night of your party. You thought that would make me want to stay with you?” 

Silence stretched on for a few minutes. 

“I was drunk. I thought you leaving the party meant leaving me. I knew you were young, that you had never done that before. I thought, God….I believed….” 

“You can’t even make up an excuse for it, can you?” 

“I regretted it. The moment I sobered up, I felt remorse. You know I tried to see you, you kept me away. I couldn’t fix it if you wouldn’t let me.” 

They had yet to look at each other through this discussion, both watching the lights in the sky. 

“You can never fix that, Crowley. It’s with me. All the time, every day. You have no idea what that does to a person.” 

Crowley sighed, “No. I suppose not. You can’t understand what it feels like to lose someone you love as much as I loved you.” 

“Yes, I do” 

“Castiel” Crowley spit out between clenched teeth 

“Yes, Castiel destroyed me, but I didn’t try to kill him because of it.” 

Crowley rolled over atop Dean, one hand braced on either side of the smaller man’s head. Dean looked up at him, locked eyes with him and suddenly he was 15 years old all over again. 

“I want you to understand, Dean. I need you to understand. You with Castiel, the way that hurts, the way it makes me sick to my stomach, that’s why I needed you dead. That’s why I needed to know you would never love anyone else but me.” 

“You could kill me now,” Dean murmured, searching Crowley’s face. “Here, in the same spot you tried to before. You almost succeeded, you know that, right?” 

“For once, I am thankful for Castiel Novak. I am glad you survived. I love you more now than I did years ago. I know I don’t deserve your love in return, I would never expect that. Give yourself to me. Just one time. Just tonight. Let me have you, let me have that memory and I’ll go back to Scotland. You’ll never see or hear from me again.” 

Dean’s breath had quickened to the point of dizziness, he licked his lips, green eyes glanced at the stars, then back to Crowley.

“Ok.” He whispered. 

“What?” 

“Ok, we can….be together, just once. Then you swear to disappear. You take what I give you tonight and it will be enough. It will finally be enough.” 

Crowley’s expression slowly shifted from surprise to unhindered lust. He leaned down, capturing Dean’s lips with his own, tracing his tongue across them. Dean opened obediently, thrusting his tongue into the older man’s mouth. He ran his left hand slowly through Crowley’s hair, right hand stretched out to the edge of the blanket. 

As Crowley raised himself back up on his hands, smiling down at the smaller man, Dean slid a knife between his ribs; angling upwards to puncture Fergus McCloud’s blackened heart. 

He barely registered the surprised look on Crowley’s face before pushing him off with every bit of strength he had. Crowley landed on his back, hands gripping the handle, mouth opening and shutting with words he couldn’t say. 

Dean stood, took a few steps over to the man that almost killed him.

“You thought I was weak. You believed I would fall for the same intimidations and promises. Oh, Crowley, you were so wrong about me. I’m not your little squirrel; I haven’t been for a very long time. You could have stayed in Scotland, you could have stayed alive, but you choose to push me. To test me. I win, Crowley. You’re bleeding to death, right now as I speak, on the rooftop I was supposed to die on. No one will find you up here. Honestly, how many people do you think will look?” 

A single tear ran from Crowley’s eye in to his hair as he lay, staring at Dean, and then moving his gaze towards the stars above him. Dean saw it. He saw the very moment Fergus McCloud left his body. The cloudiness in the man’s eyes, one last exhale of breath and the man was gone. Never to hurt a single soul again.

Dean crouched down, studying Crowley’s face as he pulled the knife from his body. He picked up the blanket, laying it reverently over the dead man. Using one of the corners, he wiped the blade and its handle off carefully. Reaching under, he fumbled to locate Crowley’s pants pocket, digging out his keys.

He stood, walked slowly to the doorway, turning one more time to squint at the blanket covered mound. Dean closed the door behind him, trotted down the stairs in the dark. He gulped cool, crisp air as he exited the building, fighting the urge to vomit. Telling himself he could throw up later, he needed to get rid of Crowley’s car right now.   
Popping open Baby’s trunk, he dropped the knife in, pulled on a pair of gloves and strolled over to the Lexus. He drove the vehicle three blocks down, behind another empty factory with a nasty swamp-like dump behind it. Popping out, shifting the car in drive, he let the vehicle roll slowly in to the water. It would be months before anyone spotted it, if they found it at all. 

Rushing back to his Baby, he ditched the gloves in the trunk, hurrying home without speeding. This would not be a good time to get pulled over. He soaked his knife in the bathroom sink full of bleach water, running his gloves through the garbage disposal then took a very long, very hot shower. Treating his shirt to the same destruction as his gloves, he rinsed the blade completely and set it back in the empty spot in his knife block.

 

See? He told everyone he would handle Crowley. He wasn’t a victim anymore, he was a survivor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Castiel called me and said you were planning to meet up with Crowley. What the hell are you thinking?”   
> “Aw, geez. Cas worries too much. I was thinking of meeting with him but thought better of it after my conversation with Castiel last night. As a matter of fact, I planned to call you when I got home this afternoon and ask that you add my residence to the restraining order.”   
> “Well, that’s better. I was considering putting you in protective custody for your own good, young man.”   
> “No need, Jody. Thank you, though”

Dean didn’t sleep very well that night. Woke up every few hours to the realization that he took a human’s life. Even if that particular human tried to kill him, it was still murder and he was guilty.

By morning, he was exhausted and sick to his stomach. He played with the idea of calling in sick but thought that may look suspicious if Crowley was reported missing.   
So, he trudged in, his co-workers mentioning his appearance, Dean explaining that he was coming down with the flu. The consensus being he should go home, he agreed to work until lunch, taking half a day. The phone on his desk rang just after 9am. 

“Dean Winchester” 

“Dean, its Jody” 

“Well, good morning Sherriff.”

“Don’t use that innocent tone of voice with me, Dean.” 

For a moment, he was sure she knew. 

“What?” 

“Castiel called me and said you were planning to meet up with Crowley. What the hell are you thinking?” 

“Aw, geez. Cas worries too much. I was thinking of meeting with him but thought better of it after my conversation with Castiel last night. As a matter of fact, I planned to call you when I got home this afternoon and ask that you add my residence to the restraining order.”

“Well, that’s better. I was considering putting you in protective custody for your own good, young man.”

“No need, Jody. Thank you, though” 

He shook his head as he hung up the phone. Damn Cas. He couldn’t believe the man would go as far as tattle on him. 

Close to noon, Dean straightened his desk with the intention of heading out, the receptionist buzzed him, 

“Dean?” 

“Yeah?”

“There’s a man here to see you.” 

Exhaling, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Ok, send him back” 

Dean let his head fall back, eyes closed until he heard shuffling footsteps approach. 

Castiel 

“Cas, what are you doing here?” 

“I came to speak to you. I wanted to apologize in person.” 

“For what? Ratting me out to Jody?” 

“No. I do not believe I was in the wrong there. I am sorry for upsetting you last night.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re forgiven. I’m actually taking a half day, headed out now. You want to grab lunch before you head back to work?”

“Actually, I have requested a half day as well. I could not concentrate.”

“Aw! Worried about little ol’ me?” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. 

“Lunch then?”

Dean smiled, “How about we grab take out and spend the afternoon on my couch. I can make you sit through the original Star Wars trilogy with me.”

“I am afraid I may fall asleep. You made me watch those a hundred times when we were dating.”

“I plan on falling asleep too, but you’re still invited over to listen to me snore.”

“It is a date, Dean Winchester.”

Dean smirked, grabbing his jacket and following Cas out. Castiel would make him forget for just a little bit. A rainy afternoon under blankets with the man he never stopped loving….

Perfection. 

 

That afternoon, Dean fell asleep with his head on Castiel’s lap. Cas watched him for a while, combing his fingers through the man’s hair before laying his head back on the couch and dozing off. The light rain outside turned in to a downpour, thunder and lighting and high winds but the couple slept straight through it.

Pink water drained from the gutters of an abandoned factory a few miles away. A still, cold body under a rain-soaked blanket stiffened and began the first stages of decay.

A pricey luxury car sunk further and further into green scum, surrounded by old tires and a used refrigerator.

A red-haired woman continued to snore on an Italian silk couch, a mixture of Xanax and alcohol keeping her unconscious and unaware her son was missing for another couple days.

A little boy with burn scars on half his body, splashed through puddles in his favorite red rain boots. His loving parents watched and laughed from the front porch swing.

A young woman who has known nothing but love her entire life, painted the toenails of another blonde girl who had just discovered how it felt to belong to a family.

A young man with shaggy brown hair read a text book intently, absorbing every word. He was going to college in California this fall.

An old man, watched the rain drops on the tiny window of his prison cell. Alone.

 

Epilogue

 

Four years later…..

 

Sam graduated with honors from Stanford, starting law school in the fall and making everyone he loved very proud of him. He dated Jessica, considering asking her to marry him. Already had a ring picked out. 

Jo received a degree in business management, opened a bar called “The Roadhouse”. Her mother rolled her eyes but you could tell Ellen and Bobby were thrilled for her.

Claire followed in Dean’s footsteps, pursuing a career in social work. She became a CASA, speaking for children who couldn’t speak for themselves. She met a girl named Charlie and the two seemed to be getting pretty serious. 

Little Adam wasn’t so little anymore. 9 years old, smart as a whip and just as stubborn as his oldest brother. Still slept with that ridiculous stuffed tiger and spent every Friday night with his ‘Deannie’.

Ellen and Bobby still took care of children whose parents hadn’t learned how to be parents. Some stayed longer than others, most found their way home. 

Crowley’s body was never found, neither was his car for that matter. His father’s company went bankrupt and Rowena moved back to Scotland with her parents. 

 

Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester were married. During the ceremony, Dean removed two rings from his right ring finger, placing the one on Cas’s left as well as his own. Much to John’s dismay, Dean changed his name to Novak. 

Their application for adoption was being considered for a 7 year old special needs boy named Ben. Fingers crossed and prayers sent, they would be parents before the year was up. 

 

Dean Winchester, 15 year old boy, suffered 27 separate knife wounds to his arms and shoulders.   
The police said he was ‘lucky to be alive’; the doctors said it was ‘a miracle he survived’. The important message being:

Dean was alive.


End file.
